#aletheiawrytes

[aletheiawrytes]

Or no Other: Part 2

The air was still. Night breathed into the room through the open window, bringing in with it soft streaks of silvery glow and outside, the zephyrs chased after each other into a raging gale. They weren't at peace tonight (and so was my heart - it had been ramming its already broken self against my rib cage, sending echoes of untold pain throughout the very being of me). Rustling of leaves in the trees outside whispered of warnings and woes. Sorrowful grey clouds lazed over the velvety stygian sky, veiling the faint twinkles of the stars. What am I doing? My breathing was the only thing up against the solitude - I was wide awake, but lost in thoughts that began nowhere and would end just about everywhere. It was maddening how everything in the world was in place yet inside my head there was nothing but pandemonium. An apocalypse in the surest sense of the word. Silently, in the moonlit cold, agonizingly familiar warm fingers found mine under the covers.

'Fayth,' he mumbled sleepily as he inched closer to me from the other side of the bed. Mine was finally a crazy little world. Like it was the most natural thing to do, he pulled me into his arms - my bare back against his bare chest, and I was home. In that moment, I was not lost anymore. Nigel. 

We were now a comma, a curve made of emotionally tangled two souls in the center of the messy layers and folds of fabric, tainted with filth that was betrayal and fierce but reckless passion. I was a hopelessly confused woman whose conscience was threatening to leave her broken in his affectionate embrace and he, the ultimate failure at saving my life because no matter how hard he tried (if he ever did), I just couldn't help it; I would still drown a thousand times over. If you think that was insane, get this - I had loved him anyway. I chose to. And nothing anyone says would change that. Ever.

No words escaped me. None would. But he wasn't the easy one to give up, too.

'Fayth?' he repeated. A tone so gentle you would never be able to guess the horrifying power that voice had over me, the power it could have on any person he chooses. Not in a million years will you ever comprehend the madness I had placed myself in because of that voice. Never in my entire lifetime will I ever be able to forgive or love myself for the things I did when he was around, because with him nothing was ever right and nothing was ever wrong. Things just were and that hurt both of us. A lot. But he kept coming back to me for more. And I kept giving in because the pain saved both of us from our unspoken and unspeakable fears. Because sinning didn't hurt as much as death when he looked into my eyes. Because being in his arms was the most sensible thing to do although it murdered me every single time. Every single time, God.

'Nigel,' I answered. A whisper. Because he was so close. 

‘I want to be close to you, Fayth. So close that nothing could come between us,’ he once said. ‘Not even air.’

And here we are, I thought. I could feel his heart beating against my back, and slowly, painfully - his powerful heartbeats found the desperate series of mine and both our hearts chorused the same rhythm that had brought us together half a year ago. I didn’t know what came over me back then but that was when I first thought that it wouldn't hurt to be more than just a senior illustrator who sits across from his cubicle - as long as no one finds out. He must had not known what hit him then, too when he first heard me spoke on my first day and decided that I could be the CEO's wife for all the shits he could give, he'd kiss me anyway. Judge me if you must. It makes hating more bearable for some, I get it. I do. But I won't be defending myself. I was and still am guilty. But so are all of you who had ever wanted someone as fiercely as I have wanted him. As blindly, too.

'Your silence,' he began. His arms tightened around me. 'is hurting me.' Then, a tender kiss at the base of my neck. Sudden but soothing. Unexpected but not surprising. Honest. Impatient. Fiery. He placed another one on my shoulder. Careful but this one was searing. And now my heart would be scarred forever. And you don't have to ask if I was in overdrive. 'What is it?' he murmured into the locks of my hair. ‘Fayth?’

Then and there, I was spellbound. How my name seemed to sound like a spell, an enchantment, when he said it like that. How it sounded like something I had never heard of, something so alien, when he pronounced it that way. And how the unfamiliarity seemed so confusingly congenital it wasn't all blinding agony and regret but also severe longing and wild desire.

'This,' I answered. Uncertainty was numbing my thoughts. There was a sudden tug at my heart, a slight disturbance in my core that I would feel every time I was about to do something stupid. Should I do this? But I was already in his arms, on my way to break God knows how many hearts - how much worse can this get? 'Us.' I took a deep breath. 

Maybe I should. 

'This is wrong, Nigel.' 

Alright, so I did.

'How?' he replied. There was not a moment of hesitation. That was one of the reasons why I fell for him; he didn’t hesitate. He never did. More kisses. In my hair. My ear. My arm. 'We both want this,’ he whispered. Fact. Fresh from hell.

'Nigel.'

'Fayth.'

'This is betrayal.' I finally forced myself to say it even when I knew each word would stab me just the way I deserved it. 'We shouldn't - Nigel - we're breaking hearts,’ I struggled, holding back a sob and an entire mess of horrible emotions. My voice was breaking as reality, ruthless as it was, began to consume me. ‘Hearts that are not even ours.’

'I don't care.' Again. There was no delay in his response. So decisive. So unchanging. So reliable. That was what made him so attractive and so sinfully tempting. He pulled me deeper into his embrace, if that was still possible.

'Nigel, you don't mean that.'

'I don't care if the world ends.'

'Nigel.'

'You want me. And I want you. That should be enough for a reason.'

I knew he was going to say that. I wished I could say the same thing and mean it, like he did - fearlessly. But I couldn't. If I could have a tenth of his strength, his persistence, I would have gone against the world on my own. But I didn’t have it. And it was unfortunate that having him wasn’t the same as having uncompromising loyalty or unwavering courage. 'I have someone to go back to.' There. I said it. God. There was a sudden change in the air. And how I wish he'd just hate me and yell at me and leave without a word, never to return ever - I deserved that much, at least. For all the things that I did in the last six months, I deserved nothing less than a broken heart and the loneliest life to the last of my remaining days.

Firmly, he turned me to face him, locking me in his intimidatingly passionate gaze. 'No, you don't,' he said quietly. In those eyes was a delicate glimmer of hope - that I would never leave and that I didn't mean what I had just said. It was so delicate that it was almost invisible but it found me without even trying. So I held that gaze with the last remaining iota of courage I had, trying my best to not cry. There was nothing uncertain in the way he looked at me, despite having been told that our days together should be numbered. There was only yearning and pure trust and that destroyed me like nothing ever would because he was right, we both wanted this. 

What have I gotten myself into?

'I think -

'Don’t. Fayth, please.' His arms went around me, gently, the strength in them subdued when he sighed, desperately, 'Why can't I be the only thing on your mind?' and broke me into pieces I didn't ever want to collect. Dark, ugly, selfish pieces I didn’t want to have anything to do with. Filthy pieces I wished were never part of me in the first place.

I looked at him, my heart went out to his calming facial features. 'We don't run the world, Nigel,' I said, gently as I touched the side of his face and then ran my fingers through his hair. 'She didn't do anything to either of us. It's not fair for her,' I explained, or perhaps I thought I did, though I wasn’t sure if I even believed what I was saying. I cursed myself for having to hurt him like that but I was hurting myself, too. Yet, I didn't know why it didn't seem like enough punishment.

'It's not betrayal if I don't love her,' he argued. His voice firm. And he frowned slightly. Cute. 'And what did River ever do to deserve you?' Alright. Not cute anymore.

I didn't have an answer for that question. I knew I wouldn't like it if I did. I wouldn't even share it if I did. God knows what kind of blasphemy the answer would be. Because River did not deserve any of this. Because I knew for a fact; every particle that made me who I was knew for a fact that I didn't deserve River Wilkins, and I never would - not even after ten reincarnations, no. Never. There is no heaven for people like us, Nigel. There is no forgiveness, too. I wanted to look away - out of shame, and out of guilt but my eyes were fixed on the flawed perfection that he was, so I said - not without hating myself with every single word though, 'River definitely doesn't deserve a manipulative, power-hungry, over-ambitious, cheating bitch like me.'

His face changed. I had hurt him again, it seemed. 'Hey,' he protested. 'That's not what I -

'Nigel,' I said, softly, stopping him. With a finger, I traced his lower lip down to his chin and along his jawline, up to his cheek and further up to his temple, and brushed the few strands of his hair away from his eyes, so he could see me better. So he could love me stronger, if that even meant anything. 'We have no right to hurt anybody.'

A few agonizing seconds passed between us. His expression was so foreign - God, I had never seen that look in his eyes before, what have I done? The coming seconds felt like an eternity because he had never hesitated. In the past six months, I had known and loved him as someone who does not stop even for the world. He knew what he wanted. He would do anything for what he wanted. So why the silence, Nigel? 

He took my hand into his and held it close to his heart, and what was that in his eyes? And quietly, in a tone so unfamiliar it sent fear and panic up my spine, he said, almost pleading, 'Don't leave me.' That, people, was when I learnt that a dysfunctional heart can be further broken, again and again, as long as it's still beating. 

'We don't have to leave each other,' I tried, dying inside for I didn’t know how many times. Because I know that was already almost a lie. 'We'll just go back to what we were.' And I didn't even believe any of that shit I had just said. How the hell does anyone cross a broken bridge? Why the hell would anyone want to go back to a place he had first chosen to leave? I was so messed up. We were both messed up to the point that we didn’t even know what to do with.

'Fayth.'

'Nigel.'

'Who do you think you're talking to?' he asked. He was really frowning now. His tone reprimanding, but still kind. I really didn’t know how he managed that every time he needed me to give up. 'You know I'm not buying that, don't you?' 

I sighed, helplessly. 'We are hurting ourselves. I know that I'm hurting you, and you -

'Am I hurting you?'

That exact question sealed my lips, and chased away my thoughts. I looked away. A part of me wanted to scream yes, so, so badly but another part would deny that to the end of my life. Did he hurt me? Yes. Treating me like the only choice he had, like he had found stars in my eyes hurt me, because I did not deserve any of this. I had no right to be happy by destroying someone else’s happiness. But do I want him to stop? No, Lord, no. I didn't know what I was doing anymore. I didn't know if I was still sane. I didn’t think I knew myself anymore back then. I didn't know what I wanted or what I shouldn't want anymore. I just wanted to disappear. Like mad, I wanted to disappear. So madly it was breaking me and everything I had ever loved about myself.

'Fayth. Am I hurting you?'

I looked up into his eyes and somehow found a hint of peace there. It could have been an illusion because what peace is there for people so sinful as us? But that was more that enough. There was an entire universe of mad hurricanes and havoc and misery and loss between us, but right there where I was staring, was peace. Or something that almost felt like it. It was unbelievable how easy it was - escaping. Or maybe it was unbelievable how incredibly deep I was in the mess that most parts of me were already giving up on trying to save anybody - not even myself. Maybe I didn't want to be saved anymore. Maybe I should just for once and the last time, just let myself fall.

'No.' It is done. The gates of hell were closing behind me and nobody was on the other side to drag me out this time. ‘No, Nigel.’ Nobody. Not this time. And I guess maybe I was never meant to return. Maybe from now on, I shouldn’t be turning back anymore.

Silently, he gathered me into his arms and kissed my forehead. 'You don't hurt me either,' he murmured, softly. Relieved. 'You never will.'

[aletheiawrytes]

Will You Say Yes?: An excerpt

'I prayed for a lifetime by your side because yours is the first smile I wanna see when I wake up and yours are the lips I wish to kiss before I say 'Goodnight', because the first time I saw your hands, I couldn't even bring myself to imagine how it would be possible to not be able to hold them, because suddenly after I first heard you laugh you made me realize that I had been colorblind all my life – and you rainbow-painted my world, because it just hurts so much to not see you at least once a day since the first time I did, because you sent dynamites exploding up my veins every time you say Hi and I think you drive me crazy because those murderous explosions sent me to the stars, and because you told me to my face that my grammar sucks. And last night since your name got me ticking till sunrise, I realized that when I'm this deeply messed up and drowned in my feelings for you, asking for your hand is the only thing left to do. So, um, Nina?'

'Yeah?' Jeez. His grammar had improved tremendously.

'Will you say 'Yes' if I ask you to marry me?'

* * *

Image source

[aletheiawrytes]

Will You Say Yes?: I am a librarian.

I’m one of those people many of you will find hard to offend. Hard to annoy, too. Hard to get all pissed off over something. In fact, I couldn’t really remember the last time I had been angry with anyone, or anything.

I was 5 when one of the boys in the neighbourhood said I was too short to be playing with him and his friends. I shrugged and walked away, feeling absolutely nothing. Later on, he was frustrated to find me sitting and reading with the girls he had been trying to hit on since forever but had never the guts to even say hi to. He invited me even for soccer after that. When I was in third grade, one of my classmates actually poured a bottle of tomato ketchup into my school bag. None of my books was spared. Instead of getting all panicky and running all teary to the class teacher, I dumped the whole bag in the dustbin outside the classroom door and called my mom to pick me up. The next day, I went to school with a new schoolbag and a whole new set of books. The culprit then became my best friend. And in high school, one guy tried to ask me out after being dared by his friends. He was to dump me right after I confessed my feelings for him (if I ever had one). I saw through it all and coldly told him this, right after he requested a conversation, ‘I like girls, haven’t you heard?’ He avoided me to the end of high school.

If you’re wondering if I was a girl nobody liked, you can stop now. I was likable. Highly, likable if I may say. Popular, in fact. But like everyone else normal, I did get onto nerves. Lots of nerves, as a matter of fact. Some people get annoyed with girls who talk too much about her likes and dislikes, or about her 4-foot-long shopping list. While some just couldn’t stand girls who can’t stop talking about boys, and girls who are pretty but pretend that they aren’t aware of it. My guy friends avoid top-scoring girls whenever they can; self-esteem issues. My girlfriends avoid the self-destructive social butterflies who got pregnant more than thrice a year. Well, as you can already guess, I was none of those girls. I was different. Yeah, don’t we just abuse the usage of the word to justify the out-of-placeness that we are? So there were times when I really felt like I belonged nowhere. Like I’d never belong anywhere.

People came up with the rarest, offensively horrible combination of phrases and pranks to set me off. None of them ever worked. All I did was stare, blankly or if time permitted (most of the times, it does), knock them silly with or two verbal offenses of my own. Eventually, I learned, just by being so; mild-mannered and sarcastic, I was the one who got onto every single person’s nerves, in all of my school years. Wow, was the only thing I had ever managed to say to myself, after realizing that.

Years have passed. I hadn’t really changed. And right now I was sitting in a café, at the two-seat table next to the window, facing someone who believed that I should listen to everything she had to say, and give her the exact same blank stare I had perfected throughout the years. Well, apparently she doesn’t look too happy. What came next confirmed it.

‘A first class degree in journalism and you’re now a librarian?’ Shiraz hissed, all the while making zero attempts to hide the hint of frustration in her voice. Her emphasize on the word librarian was almost offensive to my ears. But like I said earlier, I wasn’t even slightly poked by what she just said. Some other people, you, for example, could have gotten all emotional if you were me right then. ‘Nina, seriously?’

Then she sighed. The sound was nostalgic. It was exactly of the same length and tone as the first one I heard many years ago, after I said, ‘It’s OK’ to her apology for the ketchup in my schoolbag. Yeah. This was the culprit, who had since then, always been right by my side through all my ups and downs until now; my best friend who was the best of friends anyone could have ever had, and still was. The only one who had really liked me for the person I was and still did, and who didn’t think I was from Pluto just because I never yelled at anyone.

I stirred and poked at the ice cubes in my drink, only half listening to her. Then I turned to look at the desk nearest to ours. A teenage couple who couldn’t stop grinning and giggling and chuckling at each other. Must be his first date, I thought. Didn’t look like hers. Suddenly the guy turned to look at me and unexpectedly winked before returning to his mushy moment with his girl, which startled me. OK, maybe I was wrong. Maybe this was her first date. I drew a breath, faced Shiraz and said, ‘Yeah. I’m serious. I’m a librarian.’

Her jaw fell slightly. She then caught herself quickly enough, faster than I thought she would. ‘But you could have made it big in TIME or even People! Why a library?’ she wailed. She had totally failed to sound supportive. Well, I doubt she ever wanted to in the first place. The look on her face was an unspoken demand for the reason behind my decision.

I looked at her, with a slight disbelief that this person right here wasn’t in support of what I wanted to do despite the fact that she was my best friend and had once told me to go for it when I told her my plans of running away from home, years ago. Now I was doing a job many would kill for and she asked me why. Funny.

Well. She deserved to know the truth. I owed her that much. So I reached across the table and placed my hand on hers. ‘Shiraz, I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a total jerk,’ I began. She stared at me with a raised brow; a look I so loved about her. A signature look showing that she knew the next thing coming wasn’t going to be something she or anyone would have expected, but she would still be my friend no matter what it was. I gathered all the words in my mouth, arranging them carefully along my tongue and told her, in a flawless sentence, ‘But my basic salary’s gonna be at least 4K, just to look after books.’

And I waited for the explosion that was going to make the couple next to us jump, and I wasn’t at all disappointed. It was hilarious, her voice, facial expression and all. 

‘WHAT!?’ was the first wave. I nodded with a smile, calmly anticipating the second. ‘Which bloody library in hell will you be working at!?’

Yeap, that was Shiraz. You only get to hear such exclaims from her once in ten years, when she was really, really taken by surprise. Just now, she was. OK, I was exaggerating. But really, she wasn’t the dirty-talking kind, which made it fun to do that to her sometimes. The couple next to us had already left when I wasn’t looking. So we were saved from the embarrassment. Shiraz was saved from the embarrassment.

The next thing I knew, both of us were breaking at the sides from the laughter. I, from her reaction, she from her own disbelief of the news I had just delivered. That was one of the things I simply adored about being with Shiraz. She was more than a sister to me than any sister could have ever been to her own. She could be happy and giggly, empathic and consoling and serious and committed at all the right moments. Like we could have shared the same blood if I only I had had the choice.

As our laughter subsided, Shiraz returned to her usual self, and asked, ‘So this is about the money?’ Her tone serious and attentive.

I nodded. ‘Yeah.’ Partly.

‘You’re sure about this?’ she asked. Concerned, this time.

‘Yes. I’m sure,’ I said, decidedly. It was all about the money.

And perhaps, it was also about him.

[aletheiawrytes]

Will You Say Yes?: Prologue

I was gazing at the person the mirror in front of me was holding within its frame; a bride. Or she looked it, sort of. Somehow I couldn’t really say. From head to toe, she was whiteness. Prettiness, almost. Her cheeks flushed a vibrant pink, her eyes two pools of dark secrets – wait, I wasn’t going to proceed with this. Describing myself was never a thing I could ever properly do. If it sounds too good to be true, there will be haters and if it sounds too humble for anyone’s liking, there will also be haters. I hope you remember Bella Swan. Wasn’t she ever so humble? Right. So this was wrong. The story should begin somewhere else, differently. Sigh.

God, I didn’t think it was going to be this hard, telling my own story.

Staring at the ring on my finger, my mind swirled into a mess of memories, in the form of scattered jigsaw puzzle pieces. There were hundreds of them. No, sorry. Thousands, to be exact. Thousands of them, which used to be in a complete picture; seamless despite the differences that lined each of the pieces. And people say, at exactly this moment in almost everyone’s life; the moment when you’re looking at yourself in the mirror, when you're just one step away from the strange world you were going to enter, the whole view shatters and everything you had ever remembered will scatter in small shards. Some will be lost, no doubt about that, but the rest that you would have gathered will be hard to be put together again. And at this exact moment, that is what I was feeling. It was not very nice, trust me.

I didn’t even try to hold them together. I sort of believed that they will come together again, on their own, one day; my memories. Besides, I didn’t have the time. Or even the need. I was in the middle of something more important right now, or so I thought. Did I sound irresponsible, ignorant and careless? Good. That’s the first nod for the day. I plan to have a collection of them by the end of the tale.

There were things missing from my mind in that instant. Important things. Significant things. Very significant things. Right now I was having trouble remembering the latest episodes of my life which had led me to this day, this moment of my sitting in front of my vanity, staring at myself in the silver-coated surface, in a majestically groomed bedchamber, looking like a bride. No, wait, that didn’t come out right. I didn’t just look like a bride.

I really was looking at myself in the mirror as a bride. Uh-oh.

The reality hit me like a storm. I’m married, I thought to myself. Finally? Or should it be a question instead, Am I really married?

Suddenly, the door behind me opened. He came in; the male version of the whiteness I was. In the mirror, I watched as he closed the door behind him. Then, in the mirror too, our gazes locked into each other. Warmly. Affectionately, if that didn’t sound too sappy.

‘H-hey, Nina,’ he greeted. A gentle smile brighter that the whites he was wearing. Dear God.

And for the umpteenth time, as I blushed at the very second he pronounced my name, my mind raced at the speed of total madness, my lungs threatened to stop working and my brain was on the verge of shutting down all systems until all that would be left was a desperately beating heart; I was in overdrive.

So I fell in love with him again, just like that.

[aletheiawrytes]

Will You Say Yes?: Being Replaced

Being replaced is really the absolute worst feeling in the world, after having your beloved people taken from you, of course. Today you're his everything and tomorrow you're just all alone. And you wonder if you actually deserve it. But it sucks so bad because you will never know. So you just stop caring.

* * *

'No. Way.' Ig said, seeking my eyes as he did.

'Uh-huh,' I replied, escaping his gaze as I did. I ran my fingers on the spines of the books on the shelf nearest to me, trying to not think about what he just said. But I kind of failed. I was wondering what it would be like if I was the one. Instead. I know, right? Pathetic is the word you’re looking for, you’re welcome.

'He's married?'

I nodded.

'And you're OK?' he asked, still seeking my eyes when he did.

'Uh-huh,' I answered, picking up a copy of Gaiman's Coraline from the shelf. She had two sets of parents, this girl Coraline. An other mother and an other father who had buttons for eyes. Of course I'm OK, why wouldn't I be? Right? But what was this really uncomfortable feeling raking at my insides?

'Sure you are,' he replied. Murderous sarcasm. And if he wasn't Ig, I would have murdered him.

'Drop it,' I said, quietly. 'Just -

'You would have sucked, anyway,' he said, quickly, 'as his wife.' And that made me turn to look at him. 'Completely.' Only to find out that he was looking somewhere else.

'Yeah?' I responded. I didn't really know what to say to that. I mean, that was unexpected. But Ig always does and says unexpected things so I guess I shouldn't be surprised. But seriously, I would have sucked? Wasn't that a little rude, even for a person like me? Or a little too insulting?

'You're a handful. You wanna be right all the time. Your ego,’ he began, ‘I can't even begin to describe how monstrous it is. You're obsessed with your job. You're obsessed with stages and lighting and music and vocal training - all the wrong things in his eyes. You love your manuscript more than you love him, that's a fact. It’s sad, really. And you have too many guy friends although I don't think that's wrong, and they're more awesome than he is, so I'm sorry. Plus you're mad about books more than you're mad about him and you don't cook even though you're very good at it,' he explained. 'You would have made him an abusive husband on day one.'

'You're saying I'm never getting married?'

'You know what I'm saying. Do you think you'd be happy with a man like that?'

I shook my head. I knew I wouldn't happy with a person I could never trust. A person who lies as easily as he breathes.

'He's impatient. He wants everything to go his way and you want things to go your way. He's jealous of your favorite author and you just don't care. He needs to feel needed but you save yourself every single time - I mean, chemistry? It's obviously not there. You know I'm right,' he said. That serious look he has on his face. Hm. Sexy?

'He promised, though,' I whispered. Loud enough for the books to hear if they had ears.

'Promises are broken every day. Get used to it.'

'I don't know how.'

And he was quiet. At exactly that, he was quiet.

'Ig, I don't know how,' I repeated. Desperately? You bet. Getting used to broken promises, just how the hell does anyone do that?

'Nina.'

'It's really, really the worst feeling in the world right now,' I said, my voice breaking into a pathetic sob as I spoke. 'Being replaced.' I turned to look at him, this one man in the whole universe who had stood with me at my worst times and had looked at my face when it was drenched in tears more times than my parents ever did. This one man whose heart I'd kill to have.

But then and there I was crying for another and you don't even know how much I hate myself at the moment. To want Ig so much I'd do anything and to let my heart break for a man who didn't even deserve it. What the hell was I doing?

'Nina.'

I wanted so badly to just burst into tears but I really couldn't seem to break and it was driving me insane. Because I knew the only way I could put myself back together is by shattering and that being the very thing I couldn't do at the very moment just hurt so much. Confusing? Try walking in my footprints since you can't fill my shoes. See for yourself how deep your feet are going to sink into the sand. And maybe then you will understand.

'I wanna cry, Ig,' I whispered. 'I wanna be broken and move on. I -

'You weren't replaced,' he said before I could finish. 'What or who gave you that idea?'

Wait, what?

I stared at him. I stared hard as if that would make him turn away and take back what he had said and just agree with me and break me by doing so and I could start crying but no, he didn't. He just stared right back at me. There wasn't a smile on that handsome face. No smirk either. But it wasn't empty, that's for sure. Something was there and for once in my entire life, I couldn't guess what he was feeling.

'I'm not gonna kid myself,' I forced myself to say.

'Wasn't asking you to,' he replied. His face was still expressionless. 'You're taking this too seriously.'

'He was a good friend. I don't expect you to get it,' I replied. But honestly, I didn't think I even believed what I had just said.

'Phone calls, Nina? Texts? Those couldn't have amounted to anything. You guys have never even met,' he offered, slightly frustrated. And managed to add, 'Pictures, or it didn't happen,' shortly after. I would really love to hate him now but he made sense and I should really be hating him yet I couldn't. I had never done and I never will. Which kind of sucked at the moment.

I didn't say anything because I agreed with him, completely but grudgingly and that sort of scared me. The fact that I once had a friend who decided that we were in a serious relationship just because we had each other's numbers. And the fact that being the idiot that I was, I wasn't so delusional to have thought the same. And the fact that the said friend referred to me as his ex-girlfriend when we - like Ig had pointed - had never said a single 'hi' in person. And also the fact that he apologized for cheating when our friendship wasn't even a test. Am I the weird one here or is the world just messed up?

'Walk away, Nina. He doesn't deserve the happiness the right man is destined for, with you,' Ig said after a few depressing moments of silence. 'He prefers common things. Plain girls who'd let him do the thinking and make all the decisions. Boring girls who have no opinions and listen to his talks about how smart he is. Dumb girls whose interests include him and crapping on Facebook. Unfortunately, you're not like them and that's rather sad. But it's better than having to pretend to be someone lesser than you really are just to keep a friend like him. Nobody needs a friend like that, Nina. I'm sorry, but you're lucky that he doesn't want you.'

That long rambling was incredibly offensive in so many ways but I couldn't find even a single intelligent comeback for it, so I kept silent. Vengefully.

'You drive mediocre guys crazy, Nina. You overthink things. You're critical. You're messed up most of the times chasing after dreams and books. You don't read love stories. You're annoyingly stubborn. You want simple things and they're always so hard to get. You're driven. You're obsessed with being right all the time. You're one complicated, plain-looking idiot who doesn't know how much trouble you are to the people around you because nobody gets to guess what's running through your head. Hell, Nina, you even drive me crazy at times and I'm not mediocre,' he said all this with a seriousness that I couldn't comprehend. If he had made a point, I had completely missed it.

'Doesn't change the fact,' I replied.

'Which fact?'

'That I got replaced.'

'You didn't. You were never his to replace.'

That silenced me. One, because I couldn't believe how stupid I had been for not realizing that all these times. Two, because he sounded heartrendingly wonderful when he said that. And three, because I had probably known that since forever and it had taken him so long to save me by reading my thoughts and saying them out loud.

I looked at the no longer empty bookshelves around us, breathing in the impressive sight of them and turned to look at him because I needed to. Seeing him and knowing that he had just saved my life (again) was like having breaths kissed into my lungs. I kind of pictured myself as drowning sailor who was saved by mermaids. It felt like that. Magical. And having him right there where I needed him to be fixed a lot of things. Mentally disturbing things.

'Maybe.'

'You'd do better with a crazy, hard-headed, overly-critical, not so mediocre guy. Someone ridiculously troublesome,' he said with a smile. 'Like you.'

'Yeah,' I said, returning the smile with one. And I think you had just described yourself, sweetheart.

'You'll find him.'

I nodded, still smiling. Maybe I already have. Maybe I had always had my eyes on him. But maybe he doesn't yet realize it. And maybe he never will.

'You're OK now?'

'Uh-huh.' How can I not be?

'Because I'm starving and my sister's home but she doesn't cook.'

'Ig -

'Come on.'

I didn’t even stop to think. I just agreed to go with him. Our strides matched although it was a little difficult at times because he was Olympic swimmer tall and I was your average librarian tall. But I was all smiles and my heart was unbroken. The painful lump in my throat was gone. My heart now remembered how to beat. My smile no longer hurts my face. And being with him was still the best thing ever.

'Hey, Ig?'

'Yeah?'

'Thanks.'

'For making you realize how stupid you are?' he asked and chuckled charmingly. Like the charmer that he was.

'Yes.'

'You're welcome.'

So that day was one of those days where I got to be the damsel in distress and had my ass saved without feeling disgusted with myself.

As much as I wanted to be the girl who doesn't need anybody, I wanted to be saved by him. Because all the times he did, defined me in beautiful ways I would never see myself and I love how he changed me but did not really change me. I don't really get it myself, and maybe I never will but I am just glad that I get to be self-destructively stupid at times and he'd reach out to save me by being honest. Not everyone does that. Not everyone is that brave. A lot of us are just jerks and still have the nerve to walk the earth while more and more of us are becoming helpless retards. But Ig wasn't anything like us. I'd seen him walk through flames. I'd want to watch him do it again even if it means getting myself into trouble.

Have you ever witnessed someone you love in such a deep mess and not feeling like lending him or her a hand because how he or she walks out of it inspires you to be your own hero?

No?

Well that's Ig for you.

That has always been him, for me.

[aletheiawrytes]

Or no Other: Part 1

I didn’t know what I was getting myself into when I stood waiting in front of the white, wooden door. I took a curious look around. There were delicate, purple flowers at my feet and blooming beautiful roses over my head. Her favorites, he once told me. Alright, so maybe I did know what mess this was going to be and I was just stupidly denying it. Or maybe I was even more curious about how it was going to turn out - us. Because, perhaps, not even in my wildest dreams had I ever thought that this - us, would become an addiction, an obsession and an insanely dangerous habit.

Or I had probably known long ago that it was going to be trouble. Hell, even his name spelled trouble. His dark eyes - every time I looked into them - reflected nothing but trouble. His warm smile was a real trouble. Everything that made him who he was to me, was trouble. I wasn’t really sure why I was there, or what I was expecting to happen. Secretly, though questionably, trouble might exactly be what I was looking for. Perhaps I was just crazy like that and I wasn’t aware of it. Because at that moment, nothing was in order - thoughts, moral compass - nothing. Nothing was certain. But all these uncertainties brought me here, specifically to his front door. The uncertainties that viciously rake at my heart until it bled thick, corrosive guilt whenever they did. It wasn’t at all easy. It was an unfamiliar, violently furious storm of mental agony, physical longing and emotional confusion. Something I had never experienced before.

‘Fayth, you are someone’s wife.’

My head kept telling me to go back home and my heart shattered every time I tried to. River would die of a broken trust if he knew what was going on behind his back. I guess a part of me was still trying to make sense of this madness, but it was not working. Nothing made sense now. This white door, my contemplation on whether I should ring the bell or not, his existence, my marriage, our secret rendezvous - nothing made sense. The realization rained on my conscience like countless poisonous arrows; it was excruciating that I just quit being rational. I stopped wanting to do what was right. Because standing here, in front of the door to his garden felt like the most natural thing to do, even though it wasn’t right. In your book, in many others’, this just could not be right. But it was the only thing that made sense to me at the moment. The only thing that could keep all my demons at bay. I don’t think you would understand. I couldn’t bring myself to ask you to understand because I don’t even expect to be understood. How could I, when I could not even comprehend, let alone explain what I was doing?

All I know is that I wanted him. At 33 I realized that I had never desired someone or something so desperately that it hurt me like hell every time he crossed my mind. So desperately that I kept repeating to myself, like a chant - what if this; us - was supposed to happen? I held on to that chant as if it would save my life. I was truly going to end up drowning in my own remorse but I could no longer turn back. What if he was the right one for me? What if I was actually destined to be here, now? What if this wasn’t my choice but His?

Because he was all kinds of right, all levels, all degrees. Everything about him felt right. His kisses tasted right. His arms around me fit just right. The way he called my name sounded right. And I’m not claiming those because I was greedy. I am a lot of things, I can tell you that, but greedy isn’t one of them. That, I know for a fact. Just why wouldn’t this get any easier? I wasn’t demanding anything for myself - or was I? What do I do if our souls had always been right for each other, and they were somehow destined to meet at the wrong time? But then again, what if now was not a wrong time? What if - despite the facts that I had just gotten married to a man I chose when my mind was sound and my heart was racing, and he was in a ten-year long marriage, with a little daughter who was battling cancer - the timing was right? What if the timing was perfect? What if.

All these wishfully made-up possibilities were driving me off the edge. I was so close to losing my mind every time we were together. Sure, he never said he wanted me. He simply showcased it in the things he did - the plain, unpainted honesty whenever he spoke; the undivided focus and attentiveness whenever he listened; the late night calls just to hear my voice; the intense passion that sparked whenever he whispered ‘I love you’ in between kisses; the suddenness and sureness of his grip every time he took my hand and so, so much more. How had I even stayed sane after six full months of all that? I should have gone out of my mind amidst all the feelings I never thought I would feel. Is it possible, though, that I had lost it long ago and not realize it because love simply felt the same as lunacy? And if I had really lost all my senses of right and wrong because I was blinded by my terminal obsession about him - shouldn’t I just go ahead and break more hearts because that could possibly be the only way things could ever work out for us?

I should, right?

'You should’ve rung,’ he said right after he opened the door, nodding at the bell. Reality found me it seemed, and I was as defenseless as ever. So I looked up, urgently seeking his gentle gaze I had sorely been missing. 'How long were you planning to stand there?’ he mused, as he casually leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms. I stole a glance at the broad shoulders, the six-foot-tall physique and the beautifully familiar features of his clean-shaven face. A few strands of his wavy, raven hair fell over his eyes in such elegance neither River nor any male acquaintance of mine could ever have achieved. In his midnight blue turtleneck sweater and snow white slacks, he was a dream come true. He was my dream, and he came true. So when he smiled as our eyes met, I knew I was saved. I was home.

Softly, I smiled back. The recent chaos in my thoughts was suddenly nowhere to be found. That was how powerful his presence was. Or I guess, that was just how crazily I needed to see him to tame the wild hurricane that raged inside me every second we spent apart. 'Was thinking about you,’ I finally said, as I regained composure. How long had I stopped breathing, God?

'I could hear it from my study,’ he replied, looking genuinely amused. 'You were loud.’ He raised one brow and waited for my response. He had this playfully boyish gleam of curiosity in his gaze when he did that. The charm was so much more than I could handle; mentally I scolded myself for blushing just because he looked gorgeous - I was so hopeless I couldn’t even begin to forgive myself. I knew how captivating everything about him was, but I fell for that smile every single time it was almost frustrating. He knew it, too.

'That’s why I didn’t ring,’ I responded complacently, glanced at the bell before our gazes locked.

At that, he chuckled, and the sun rose again for the second time that day. God, you really need to help me. This is getting out of hand. I was infatuated with a man I shouldn’t even look at, and now I couldn’t be bothered anymore by the fact that he wanted me, too. I was thankful, even. Conceitedly. Selfishly. Consequences be damned for now. I didn’t have the capacity to worry anymore. I was with him, so nothing else should matter. How I wish it was that easy.

Grinning mischievously, he reached for my hand in his signature firmness and invited me in. The comforting warmth of his fingers offered me and my tainted heart a tinge of salvation I didn’t even deserve. ‘Come on,’ he said. The silenced chaos in my mind whirred to life in a heartbeat. Uh-oh. Panicking, the knot in my throat tightened as I mentally calculated how doomed I was going to be soon, as my heart skipped a few beats. I followed him inside anyway. That was the real reason I came. I wasn’t going to lie. This could be the single most idiotic thing I had ever done in my life -

But I chose this, didn’t I?

So when the white door closed behind us, my brain threatened to stop working as I totaled up the number of the dreadful but very possible outcomes of the decision I made today - to fall in love as hard as I could, and to believe that he would catch me, before both of us crash into our respective hells. It’s a sealed fate anyway, right? There will be no heaven for people like us. But as crazy and reckless as it sounded, it made perfect sense. To me it did, at least at that moment. And I wouldn’t have had it any other way.